


Within The Tunnels

by ZombieKisses



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consentacles, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieKisses/pseuds/ZombieKisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing should've been native to Planet Z2X73018, a mining planet infamous for its thick covering of ice and snow. Disgraced space pilot Breach Wheeler is about to learn why he shouldn't make assumptions about what lives on other planets—or, perhaps, why he should make these assumptions more often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within The Tunnels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SFM2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SFM2/gifts).



You didn't get assigned to Planet Z2X73018 unless you really fucked up somewhere.

Breach fucked up. And when Breach Wheeler fucked up, he did it hard. Didn't matter that he hadn't been the one who started the brawl—that was Ratchet's fault. Should've known better than to mess around with the wrong guy's Symb. But since Breach ended the fight with an old-school stiletto to the wrong kind of rich kid's thigh, the worst of the punishment landed on him.

No more ship. No more crew. Indefinite assignment to Z2X73018.

Z was cold. Constant snow, all over the godforsaken planet. Wind always beating at the thick walls like a creature trying to break in. You could never go outside without protection, or you'd freeze to death. The "you can never leave" was unspoken. Z was where sunlight and fuckups and hope went to die.

He'd be damned if he'd die on Z.

Tunnel work the sucked most. Sometimes an equipment malfunction meant heading down into the dark, deep tunnels running underneath the compound. Any other mining planet would've had bots on hand to do the dirty work. None of the old-timers were willing to say what happened to the bots.

_"You don't want to know,"_ they always told him, all wearing haunted expressions that meant business. Guys like Sul and gals like Xictoza didn't make those kinds of faces for shits and giggles. Everyone else kept asking for details, but Breach? Breach didn't want to know. He made a mental note to dodge tunnel work as much as possible, and decided to leave it at that.

But he drew the short straw this time. Drill #136 was a troublemaker, prone to false alarms, and most of its components were underground. Breach vowed he'd wreck that hunk of junk if the sensors were just pitching another fit, but didn't say it aloud. Wordlessly, he put on his pressure suit, and headed underground.

Any other planet, he might've liked tunnel work. No one bugging him, high probability that the fix would be easy, and no one expecting him back for a few hours minimum. Take a few cans of alk and load up some good stuff on the holo, then spend the rest of the day doing a lot of nothing.

The Z tunnels were creepy. Something about the way the light from his headlamp hit the surrounding angles and curves wasn't quite right. Something about the sound of his footsteps on the stone walkways was wrong. And sometimes, he'd swear someone—or something—was watching him.

Damn it all, he didn't want to be proved right.

His foot slammed into a tentacle with a wet, meaty thud. They kept coming, wrapping around him, entwining him in their unsettling warmth. Nothing native to Z should've been that warm—nothing should've been native to Z period. Was this thing what freaked out the guys so damn much?

With angry shouts, Breach kicked and squirmed, but the slimy tendrils didn't stop. No, they pulled off his helmet, ran over his face, almost caressing him. He snapped his teeth at them, and they ignored him.

As he bit at one, it snaked its way between his teeth, cutting off his grunts and howls of rage with its thick weight and sweet taste. He tried to spit out the tentacle, tried to bite off the tip. The tough flesh refused to yield.

Something slick and hot spurted down his throat, and pooled in his stomach, filling him with heavy warmth. Gentle heat radiated through his gut, disturbingly comforting. It felt good. That was bad.

Breach fought back harder, in spite of the soothing peace spreading from his belly to his brain. Something was inside him. He wanted it out. And yet he didn't.

_Give in_ , his mind told him, and he clapped a hand to his belly. It felt unnaturally hot, but the touch of his hand was a revelation, setting off a wave of pleasure that reverberated through his nerves. What was this shit doing to him? And why did he like it so damn much?

With one last feeble punch to the creature's head—or, what he thought was its head—he gave in. Immediately, he was surrounded, embraced by a swarm of boneless limbs. How many did this thing have? Why did they feel so good as they freed him from his pressure suit?

What were they going to do to him?

For such thick appendages, they moved with surprising dexterity. Soon, Breach was stripped naked, covered only by the deliciously cold air and the hot, slithering tentacles on his skin. Their touch was electric, bright and on the edge of painful, yet beautiful, and a tight, familiar burn came to life in the pit of his belly. He was getting hard. Shouldn't he have been horrified?

Oh, what the hell. There were two things Breach rarely said no to—a fight, and pleasure. And sweet God, this thing felt fucking fantastic. He moaned, and the creature seemed pleased. It stroked his face, a tender caress, while another tendril slid up the length of his thigh to the jut of his rock-hard cock.

_Fuck_ , he thought, as tight, slick heat coiled around his cock. Fuck, that was...sweet fuck, he didn't have the words. He bucked into its grasp, arching up off the floor.

Another tentacle took advantage. It slithered between the cheeks of his ass, and for a second, he thought he'd come just from that. Breach had a rule that said no one touched him there, but as it slid over his hole, damned if he remembered why. It teased his entrance, putting his nerves on alert as it explored the edges of his hole, its probing touch infuriatingly light. _Now_. He couldn't believe it, but he wanted it inside him now.

Something gave his nipple a firm twist, and a red-hot jolt of intoxicating pain went through him, shooting from his chest to his gut. The tentacle around his cock began to move, a slick, slow fall and rise along his length, while the one at his ass began to nudge in. Breach didn't know which to encourage. Did he arch toward the one on his chest, the one on his dick, the one in his ass? Fuck, how did he choose? How did he focus?

His mind jerked from sensation to sensation, a rapid-fire jumble of thoughts as chaotic as the tangle of limbs on his body. He tried to focus, tried to think, tried to fucking breathe, but oh fuck, everything was a blur of hot-yes-now and slithering tentacles in his most vulnerable places, and he felt like his heart and his brain and his whole fucking body would explode from it all.

Another burst of fluid filled his stomach, just as weirdly hot and comforting as the last. His mind felt hazy, overwhelmed, delirious with the feeling of fucking and being fucked all at once. The tentacle in his ass slid in and out, deliberately playing with some amazing place inside that sent shockwaves of lust through him, while the one on his cock teased his slit and the sensitive head. He writhed in the creature's embrace, letting it touch him, letting it fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.

One moment, he was overwhelmed. The next he was _gone_ , coming hard and fast with a cry of surprise, having the best orgasm of his life. The creature stroked him and fucked him through the aftershocks, urging him on, until he hit the other side and collapsed in the creature's arms.

His last thought as he landed in the post-coital haze was a ridiculous, _You don't get away from Planet Z2X73018 without getting fucked._


End file.
